Book 3 Chapter 52

            The next morning, I was up early. Unless I touched the band-aids, I was not in pain. The doctor came in and removed the bandages to look at it. ‘’It looks fine,’’ he said then he added, ‘’It is high enough in the hairline that the scar won’t be visible.’’

            We talked about a shot for infection and other things, but after checking that all my shots were up to date, he said none was needed unless a problem appeared. More salve and new band-aids, then I ate a good breakfast.

I then did a VCATS with the girls – it was 2000 there. There was another long talk about being more careful. There was also a picture of a big logging chain with ankle cuffs by my desk and my pair of high-topped boots. We had a good laugh at that.

Troy handed a me a handful of notes, mostly general information and updates. The one I was interested in was that India’s ambassador to the US – Neeraj Om Ahmed – wanted an immediate meeting with me as soon as I returned to Washington.

The second one was that Pakistan’s Fazel Al Farsi had been to the White House personally to make the request for a meeting as soon as I returned from my trip.

            At 0900 we were to meet the Philippine delegation at Subic Bay. My security people decided I would not travel with President Ramos for fear that his security team may have been infiltrated.

            The motorcade with the beast had me to Subic Bay in plenty of time. In fact, I was early enough that I made an impromptu visit to a couple of our Navy ships that were tied to the dock. We weren’t due to visit any ships for another two hours.

            The guided missile cruiser ‘’USS Millington’’ was one of them. The Millington was one of the newer Cruisers, just three years old. Most likely, this was its first port assignment after the shakedown cruise and final fit out.

            I thought the gangplank officer was going to crap himself as three-star Admiral Horton and I walked up to him. There were also several Secret Service agents and my JBG security along.

            ‘’Permission to come aboard,’’ I said. He stood there not responding, in a daze, his right hand to his forehead fixed in a salute that I had returned.

            ‘’Ensign Fergerson, I think you should answer the CIC,’’ Admiral Horton said.

            ‘’Yes sir, yes Ma-am, I sorry Ma-am, permission granted, you may proceed,’’ he stammered.

            We started up the gangplank to be met at the top by a Commander and a seaman. ‘’Welcome aboard Madam President and Admiral Horton,’’ Commander Fred Rubble said.

            ‘’Pipe the President and the Admiral aboard, Seaman Crocket,’’ the Commander said.

            As soon as the seaman finished, Commander Rubble announce on the ship’s PA system, ‘’Attention all hands, the CIC is now aboard, attention all hands, CIC is now aboard, attention all hands, Pac-fleet Commander Admiral Horton is now aboard, attention all hands Pac-fleet Commander Admiral Horton is now aboard.’’

            There was a rumble below decks that I could feel with my feet on the steel deck and there was the slamming of multiple hatches being closed.

            ‘’Commander Rubble, can you direct me to where I can get a good cup of coffee?’’ I asked.

‘’Yes Ma-am, follow me. I will lead you there, right this way,’’ he said.

            Two down flights of stairs, several turns and a dozen salutes along the way and the galley was nearly full of men and ladies getting breakfast. The Admiral and I stood in line to get a cup of coffee that smelled like the real stuff.

Nervous sailors were everywhere, wondering what they should do. I solved that issue, ‘’Pull up a seat and join us,’’ I said.

            ‘’You know there is an officer’s galley a deck above,’’ Admiral Horton said.

            I wondered why the Commander had not taken us there, then I wondered what was going on there that he did not want us to see.

            ‘’The review board said I would never be officer material. They insisted they were never wrong,’’ I said.

            ‘’Those review boards were wrong a lot of times, and that one time for sure,’’ he said.

            We were just finishing the coffee with several of the crew when the ship’s Captain and first officer found us.

            ‘’Let’s go to the bridge and lay out some orders,’’ I said.

            Fifteen minutes later Captain Sturbridge had the orders for his Naval force of one guided missile cruiser, the USS Millington, two FFG destroyers, the USS Alexander, the USS Smithfield and two frigates – the USS Hampton and the USS Shiloh. Those ships were ordered to depart Subic Bay in two hours.

            I and my group departed the USS Millington and met President Ramos at the southern dock for a reflagging of four destroyers and four frigates that had been pulled from the United States mothball fleet. They had been listed as unneeded and scheduled for disposal.

            Normally disposal meant to be sunk as targets, sold for scrap or given to our allies. In this case they became part of the deal to allow the US access to the former US bases in the Philippines without the multi-billion – dollar annual fees of the past.

            They were sent to the shipyards, cleaned and repainted, plus any other repairs needed to make them sea worthy, somewhat dependable and install reasonable upgrades. Special upgrades would be paid for by the Philippine government.

            While all that was being done, one thousand seven hundred Philippine sailors and officers were being trained on how to use the destroyers and frigates. The Philippine navy had eighty ships in their fleet, including frigates.

The DDG destroyers we were sending them were two hundred feet longer and a different design than their frigates. They had five-inch guns on them as the main weapon plus missiles, torpedoes and the phalanx close in anti-missile aircraft defense systems. They needed training on all the differences as well as fire control

The frigates we were sending them were fifty feet longer than the ones they had and had four-inch guns, torpedoes and the defensive missile systems. They would add firepower to the Philippine Navy in its many island disputes.

            At 0900 we stood on the dock giving all the appropriate speeches as the US flags on those ships were replaced with the official flag of the Philippine Navy. The US flags were properly folded and delivered to Admiral Horton’s aide.

I ordered that the flags be properly labeled and were to be delivered to each ship’s crew members association. Many Navy ships had a crew member’s association and held reunions and get togethers.

Because of the attack on me, the Secret Service – with the JBG security agreeing – decided that me visiting any WW2 battlefields was a no go. Especially after there were rumors in the media that I was going to do just that. After an afternoon of meetings, I was going home, disappointed.

Air Force One headed east at 1600, I was flying back in time – losing the day I had gained when flying west.

Information on the attackers had finally been put together. Six of them were from Kharchani Pakistan, six more were from Lahore Pakistan and another six were from Punjab India. The remaining ten were from the Mindoro area of the Philippines. It was believed that the ones from Pakistan were the trainers.

There was little to be done – other than apply diplomatic pressure – at the current time. President Ramos indicated that there would be operations against the sects on Mindoro that were getting rebellious.

Air Force One landed at Andrews so all the Washington people would be able to go home. Marine One was waiting and crewed to take me immediately home.

The Secret Service had directed that it lands at Morton and have a motorcade to Summers Road, but I was going to change that in air. Something had been bothering me about Marcy for the last couple of hours.

I had talked to all my mates a couple hours ago. There was a change in Marcy’s voice that I detected. I wondered if she was in labor, as both babies were due any day.

Ten minutes into the flight I ordered the change to land behind the office. The senior Secret Service agent aboard threw a temper tantrum.

‘’It’s not a debate, it’s a direct order. Land behind the office,’’ I said.

‘’Yes Ma-am, behind the office.”

There were several Suburbans there to take me to the house. I was going directly to Marcy’s room but didn’t get that far. The family, including Jeanna, was in the living room timing Marcy’s contractions. Jeanna was with them and in a nervous fit.

‘’The Secret Service ambulance is on its way from Morton, should be here in a couple minutes. The medical group is with it.”

The medical group was a permanent assignment to the Secret Service ambulance and consisted of a doctor and several nurses. All in case of an emergency with the President or the family.

‘’Doctor Peterson is on her way to AAGH Jenny said.

Twenty – five minutes later we were crossing the Bay Bridge on the way to AAGH. Marcy and Ching Lee were in the ambulance. I was in the backup beast with the rest of my family including Jeanna. We were in the middle of a pack of Suburbans.

JJ, RJ, Takeo and Sara were still at home with Jason and Lisa and a nurse, and of course several Secret Service agents.

Six hours later Elizabeth Roberta Jones – 7 lbs. 8 oz. 21 inches tall – made her appearance to the world. Elizabeth was her grandmother’s name and the Roberta was of course me.

I was unsure of how I felt about that. I didn’t think I was old enough to have children named after me. But everyone was excited and happy, so was I. There were tears from all of us.

Jeanna was to the moon with excitement. Dozens of pictures had been taken and sent to her friends and coworkers. I was sure that we were going to have a house guest for a while, even though she only lived a couple miles down the road. She was glued to every word from Dr. Susan Peterson when talking about baby care.

The media was in the hospital lobby, in fact the lobby was filled with media; there was no room for anyone else.

I resigned myself to the fact I needed to go give them a statement so the hospital could return to normal operation. They were stopping everyone that looked to be a hospital worker, being a total nuisance to the hospital staff. The Secret Service led me through the medical area behind all the closed doors that exited into the lobby.

I was still wearing the gauze and covered by a bigger Band-Aid to cover the bullet graze on the side of my forehead, at the insistence of the White House doctor. It wasn’t healing to his liking. I tried to minimize it with a White House baseball cap while I made a statement to the media.

‘’At 0200 this morning, Elizabeth Roberta Jones – 7 lbs. 8 oz., 21 inches – was delivered by my mate Marcy De Stone Jones. Baby and mother are in excellent health and will be discharged as soon as the doctors give the OK,’’ I said.

The Secret Service agent handed me a couple pictures of Marcy and me holding Elizabeth and then me holding Elizabeth.

The media was shouting questions about the head wound and the baby. I answered them by thanking them for coming and that I would be unavailable for the week.

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